Distorted
by Narweth
Summary: Oswald Cobblepot is at a loss of what to do since he kidnapped that brunette who just happened to smile so charmingly at him in the street.


_Pacing in his living room_ , this was what he had been reduced to. He sighed, again, for exactly the fifteen time in the past ten minutes. Yes, he had counted. His mind was racing with the events of the last two weeks, and he felt like he needed to take a break. Oswald Cobblepot limped closer to his TV set and lit it up.

 _"_ _There has been an incident at Arkham Asylum. Six inmates have been busted out. We still have no leads on the person or persons behind the breakout. The GPD is working on it at the moment we speak…"_

Jim Gordon ought to lead that case, the dark-haired man thought. Jim, yes _, good_ idea, he could think about his friend, it might be distracting. Yet, the word "police" came all too soon to his mind and he sighed again. No, that was a _bad_ idea.  
He turned off his TV, his head fuming. What could he do to think of something else? What could he do to distract himself from what was in his bedroom or rather who. He started panicking again. Air, he needed some fresh air. He strode towards the front door ready to get out. NO! He could not get out. What if she wakes up when he is not here? _She_.

Damn. All of those efforts annihilated in only a word. How humiliating for his mind. He felt defeated, then upset and then, stupid. What the fuck was he thinking? Mother always told him he should not swear for only bad boys swore. Here, he felt he had the right to do so. Seriously, who kidnapped women only because they smiled at you? Oswald wondered. Even though he knew he should not have done that, he was not regretting it in the slightest, the vision of her charming smile still embedded in his mind. He smiled, yes that was the right thing to do. He decided to go check on her. He entered silently, trying not to wake her since she was in his bed, and he beamed at seeing her still sleeping and immobile in his bed, it meant the chloroform still had not wore off. A strange feeling of pride got hold on him at seeing _her_ in _his_ bed, she was there, like a trophy, immobile and vulnerable. If he wanted to, he could snap her neck and she would be gone. That sense of power was exhilarating and he felt a smile appearing on his thin lips. But he did not want to, of course not, _he was not crazy._ His mother only told him how intelligent and handsome he was, and that always made him happy.

Oswald crept silently towards the bed and sat at the end of it, facing her and gazing at her lovingly. He could not wait for her to wake up, to see her sparkling chocolate eyes again. He got lost in thought remembering the moment he met her for the first time.

He was coming back home after a meeting with some second-class thugs that he needed to convince to join his ranks when he crossed her path. She was standing on the sidewalk near a bus stop a few feet in front of him and thus they came to meet as he kept walking. She was not watching her surroundings, her nose lined in one of the many books she was holding in her right hand while she gripped an intact apple in the other. Oswald still did not know what attracted his gaze to her. Perhaps it was the fact that she felt so pure and out of place, reading a novel while holding an apple in the middle of Gotham City. That for sure was an unusual scene. Was it the idea of the apple that drew him in? Did he see this as a hidden message, a challenge?  
Anyway, a businessman on the phone came to disturb her, he was not watching where he was going, having this superior air of someone who expects anyone on his way to move because of his suit, but she didn't. They collided, resulting in her knocking off her pile of books and in her apple to roll onto Oswald's feet. Oswald rushed to help her with her books and to give her apple back, he remembers then her not meeting his eyes in what he thought was fear, since that was the reaction he got from most people. Yet, he learnt later that it was not it. He also _remembered_ the gap between her teeth and the wrinkles near her eyes when she smiled up to him after he tried to make a joke, he _remembered_ the spark in her eyes when they talked about her books and literature in general and finally the blush on her face when she asked him on a coffee date. He _remembered_ also his surprise and his awkward hurried acceptance of it, resulting in them both smiling shyly at each other. He _remembered_ the way his name sounded and rolled on her tongue when they came to the realization they had not introduced each other. Miranda, her name was Miranda, and she was beautiful.  
He held dear the day after this, their first date, resulting in them both coming to the realization they shared many common points and awkwardly hugging each other. They talked about some of her favorite books: The Collector by Fowles, The Tempest by Shakespeare, Utopia by More, Les Fleurs du Mal by Baudelaire... He remembered being surprised by the heterogeneous contents. And then there was his growing affection of her that seemed to be mutual and finally on the third date, their kiss. She then told him it was the first time she was that attracted to someone, he told her about the butterflies in his stomach.  
Yet, coming back home that day, Oswald recalled the anxiety that took hold of him when he realized he would eventually have to tell her about his activities, his murders, his job, his reputation. He wondered how she would react at him telling her he was a murderer, working in the mob and being the chief of it, most of all. That he was the famous Penguin that everyone talked about.  
That's when he began following her, watching her whereabouts, her acquaintances, looking for her at her college. He began to collect a lot of data on her life and realized she was perfect for him which made him feel more and more depressed by the fact she may reject him because of his job…. And one night, he decided to act, it could not go on any longer, he had to tell her. Thus, he broke into her apartment, the alarm ringing and all lights off and quickly located her, hidden in her bathroom. She was in her PJs, holding a baseball bat, ready to defend herself. He smirked, she had not seen him, he just had to catch her from behind and press the chloroform to her nose for her to fall into his arms. He breathed in her scent while embracing her, having missed her.

And here we were, Oswald sighed while facing the sleeping figure. He was anxious on how she would react to his job, and that's why he had it all planned in his head. He was going to profess his love for her, so that she would come to realize she loved him too and would have to eventually accept his work and lifestyle. It was evident that it would work, evident.

" _Oswald? What…where am I?"_ Oswald suddenly opened his eyes, he must have dozed off at a certain point, and gazed lovingly into Miranda's eyes _. "At my place_ ", he answered smiling at her before smoothing his bed.  
 _"How come?"_ she wondered weakly, her eyes assessing the bedroom.  
Oswald beamed, blushing. That was his moment. _"Listen Miranda, I have come to the realization that I have been having feelings for you, since the beginning, and I wanted to know if those were reciprocal."  
"Wh…What? I mean, why aren't you answering? Why am I in your house Oswald? How?"_ she asked, and Oswald looked at her lost eyes.  
 _"I wanted to talk to you,"_ he replied softly.  
" _That does not answer me Oswald_ "  
He sighed, obviously flabbergasted before folding his hands in his lap. " _I have brought you home because I have made us a nice dinner. I mean, I haven't cooked it, obviously I am not a great chef but I ordered everything, I remembered your favorite meal was…"  
"How did you bring me here? How come I don't remember anything? Why am I in your bed wearing my pyjamas?"_ she cut him off. Oswald could see the panic rising in her eyes, he immediately tried to take her hands but she recoiled, her eyes looking all around. He frowned at this.  
 _"Look, you trust me right?"  
"Uh I guess I do but I am not sure right now, I feel a bit insecure… I…I don't understand"  
"It is simple, I came to visit you and brought you back here, you were sleeping."_He explains her slowly, as though he was talking to a child. _  
"Oh my god Oswald, What…. Don't you realize how weird it is? "  
"It is not weird, I like you, I think it is romantic"  
_Miranda began fidgeting _"Can I go home, please? Can I leave?"_  
Oswald scoffed _"Come on Miranda, why would you want to leave, you just woke up, have dinner with me! "_ He tried to take her hands once again _"Do not touch me! Please…"_  
 _"What is wrong with you Miranda?"_ the dark-haired man asked, feeling suddenly offended. Why was she suddenly rejecting him? _She_ was the one to initiate the kiss, _she_ was the one to invite him on a date.  
She finally snapped _, "What is wrong with me? Are you fucking psycho? How would a person in their right mind come to kidnap a girl to tell her he liked her? "_  
She has lost her mind, Oswald thought, shaking his head. He felt shocked by her reaction, not expecting it from a woman that seemed so soft and nice around him.  
 _"Why are you reacting like this? I am telling you that I love you!"  
"I have just been kidnapped; I think my reaction is normal!"  
"Kidnap, such a big word! I am sorry, I thought it was kinda romantic, to bring you home like this!"_  
She rose up from the bed and stood quickly in front of him, her fist clenched. _"You have a fucking distorted idea of romanticism, Oswald_." She stopped, pacing in front of him, while he remained silent, appalled by her behavior. " _What are you planning on doing? Are you going to hold me prisoner? To rape me?"  
"What? Of course not! Why would you think that? "_ She remained quiet, then suddenly glanced at the door. In an instant, she was racing towards it and then along the corridor, looking for her way out. Oswald, still sat on his bed, signed once again before rising up and following her, knowing where she went. He found her again before the front door, banging on it, trying to leave and he felt once again upset by her behavior. Why was she so erratic? She finally turned around to find Oswald behind her and caught her breath, her face stricken with tears. Sighing again, he took a blade out of his pocket and heard her shuddering. She gasped and flinched, her eyes full of unshed tears. _"Are…are you going to kill me?"_ Oswald then giggled childlishly, as though it was funny, _"Why would I do that? We are going to have dinner love, remember?"_ Miranda then observed his face suddenly darkening and a sick smile appearing on his thin lips. She burst out into tears " _You are scaring me Oswald!"  
_ That's what he apprehended, he got angry. _"Am I not good enough for you? All these efforts, for nothing? You don't like me anymore! And I thought you were different, you are just like all the others, judging me..!"  
"Why did you have to kidnap me?"_ Oswald took hold of her, hugginh her while she sobbed. She struggled in his hold and his hug became a restrain while she tried to leave again. He shushed her, stroking her hair, telling her everything was going to be ok and finally when she calmed down, he pressed a chloroform filled tissue on her face again and watched her crumble in his arms. Then, in a kiss, he pressed his mouth against her ear and whispered to her " _I am sorry my little dove, I had to do it. I could not let you go, we belong together, you belong with me."_

 _He was the moon  
She was the sun  
He was disaster  
She was beauty  
He was sorrow  
She was happiness  
She was his salvation  
He was her destruction_

 **I do not know what came over me for me to write something like this, it just came to my mind suddenly after I read** ** _The Collector_** **by Fowles for one of my courses (thus the obvious references). So, it is evidently inspired by it. I don't know why, I felt like Oswald could be another Freddie Clegg, a guy that does not appear as abnormal on the first sight but that reveal to be a psycho with an obsessive tendency and distorted vision of life. I wanted to write only from the perspective of Oswald since I find it even more terrifying. Miranda is in this work only a pretext to dwell into Oswald psyche so I am sorry for this objectifying oneshot for women!  
The poem is not from me, I found it on Tumblr! And disclaimer: I do not own the Gotham series but love it so much! Especially our little Penguin!  
I may extent this oneshot into another chapter or even several since I have some ideas of how this relationship could evolve. Anyways, I hope you liked it! Reviews are appreciated! Once again, sorry if you find any mistakes for I am not an English native speaker, do bear with me!**


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